


Warm

by feverfooted



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 04:03:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7919806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feverfooted/pseuds/feverfooted





	Warm

It was quiet…so so quiet. 

Baz could hear Simon breathing, steadily, the only sound in the still room.

Baz took a breath of his own, feeling the cold air of the bedroom fill his lungs. He was always cold, he thought, in one way or another. There was a chill that never left, that seemed to cling to his very soul. He guessed that it probably had something to do with the boy sleeping beside him. 

The blankets had slid off him slightly, exposing his arms. He shivered, but made no attempt to cover himself. 

He glanced over at Simon. Simon was deeply asleep, wrapped in his blankets tightly. Only the smooth ridges of his cheekbones were visible in the darkness. Those and a tuft of curly bronze hair, fanned over his pillow. 

Baz turned over on his mattress, eyes still on Simon. It was a curious thing, watching Simon sleep. It was strange, seeing him so perfectly at peace. Even stranger being able to look at him without seeing eyes full of hatred in return. 

When Baz watched Simon sleeping, he liked to imagine that Simon didn’t really hate him. 

It was a silly fantasy. A childish one. But Baz couldn’t help himself from staring. He couldn’t stop the chill that crept over his skin when he thought about how far away Simon truly was—even if, in reality, he slept mere inches away from him. 

Simon mumbled something in his sleep and shifted, causing the blankets around him to crinkle as they moved to form a new shape. 

As Simon moved, his arm slipped from beneath the covers, dangling over the side of the bed.

Baz stared, transfixed. Simon’s arm looked even paler in the dull moonlight that filtered in through the window. A milky expanse, dotted with moles and freckles. 

His arm stretched into the no-man’s-land between their beds, stretching across a boundary that Baz had never dared to cross. 

He’d like to say that he was tired. Not thinking properly. But in reality, he was aware—so sharply aware. 

Tentatively, Baz moved his arm across his mattress. Slowly, so slowly, as to not make a sound. He moved his arm forward until his arm too hung over the mattress, into that peculiar space between their beds. 

Baz paused before their fingers touched, letting his hand hover there, long fingers drifting against the dull curtain of nightfall. 

And then, feeling that cursed shiver creep around his soul, he took Simon’s hand, interlacing his fingers. 

As Simon snored, still deeply asleep, Baz’s lips curved upward into a smile. 

Simon’s fingers were so utterly, delightfully warm.


End file.
